The Music in the Story
by RositaLG
Summary: A collection of oneshots based on songs that I think should be on the Bones soundtrack because they are just filled with so many B&B undertones. I do not own the lyrics, music, or Bones but I encourage you to find them. :
1. Falling

**A/N: I am a Bones fan and I am a music fan. These fandoms collide in the best ways and often some of my favorite songs have unwritten scenes of B&B goodness simmering beneath the surface. I eventually share these with you all, whether you realize the fic was inspired by songs or not. However, there are a small collection of songs that I've saved, wanting to dedicate full-fledged oneshots to celebrate these fandom collisions in all their glory. Over the last 18 months of my Bones fanship, I've collected 14 songs that have screamed "WRITE ME!" and I'm finally in a place where I can do it right. This was the first one that I tucked away. I hope you enjoy and for the love of all that's holy, listen to music. Buy it, download it, watch videos, whatever. In the words of my dear pal Nietzsche, "Without music, life would be a mistake."**

**OOOOO**

**"Falling" The Civil Wars**

She had started to notice the problem a few weeks ago. The nibbling feeling in her soul that something wasn't quite right.

That _she_ wasn't quite right.

It wasn't a feeling so much as it was a lack of feeling.

She was starting to go numb.

_**Haven't you seen me sleepwalking?**_  
_**Cause I've been holding your hand.**_

She had spent the better part of her life putting her feelings in a small box, pushing them out of her brain while she worked. She could compartmentalize well and most people assumed that because she didn't show her feelings, she didn't have any.

They were wrong.

She had always experienced very strong emotions; she just knew when to show them and when to hide them away.

Booth had been the first person to see through the box and into her heart. For whatever reason, he could see the roaring passion that lay just beneath the surface of her cool exterior.

He had seen through her and it had very nearly sent her running.

She had been thinking about their younger selves a lot lately. Maybe it was Sweets' book that had stirred the memories. Even she had to admit, now that she was able to look back on it, that they made an improbable pair.

Logically, they should have never worked as a team. But yet, they had quickly discovered that she had the brain to balance his heart, the science to back up his gut and the logic to balance his magic. And most importantly, her passion for seeking the truth rivaled his passion for stopping evil. That shared passion that had overcome all of the other differences. It was the ultimate reason for their success.

So what had changed?

_**Haven't you noticed me drifting?**_  
_**Oh, let me tell you I am.**_

Somewhere along the way, she had lost her purpose. Her drive to solve cases and her desire to uncover the truth had left her, and she wasn't sure how, when, or why.

Her relationships with Booth and the team were both fine. Everyone was still working just as hard as they ever did. No one seemed to notice her hollow eyes, her sleepless exhaustion, her listlessness within the lab.

No, whatever was afflicting her lay solely within her.

Even surrounded by her chosen family, her team, she felt alone.

_**Tell me it's nothing.**_

Like all things psychological in nature, she had tried to ignore the empty, aimless feeling she was experiencing. She had no reason to be lethargic so she moved forward, hoping that something would touch her, make her feel something, _anything_ again.

What finally touched her wasn't what she had been expecting.

The Gravedigger case was supposed to be their chance, their opportunity for justice. The team had suffered, but in the end, had prevailed. They had all of the evidence to ensure that Taffettt would be locked up for the rest of her life. They would finally have their peace.

At least, in a perfect world.

_**Try to convince me,**_  
_**That I'm not drowning.**_

But things started to fall apart, the nightmares came, and before she knew it, she awoke nightly, covered in sweat. The images that haunted her in her sleep dragged her down even when she was awake. She felt helpless for the first time in her adult life. She couldn't save them, she couldn't save herself.

She was drowning.

_**Oh, let me tell you I am.**_

When the team had been forced to give up their own cases to fight for the defenseless boy that lay on their slab, she lost even more of her faith in the justice system.

Why bother?

She hated herself for thinking it but there it was. That little bit of apathy, the knowledge that she was helpless, had invaded her brain and done its damage. Even when she wasn't helpless, even when she was armed with the best physical evidence in the world, it didn't matter. Her father had gotten off of a murder charge and Taffett could just as easily be set free.

Evidence could be manipulated. Juries could be swayed.

The truth didn't matter.

_**Please, please tell me you know,**_  
_**I've got to let you go.**_  
_**I can't help falling out of love with you.**_

"I have nightmares, Booth. Hodgins is bleeding, you're drowning. I can't help anyone." He simply looked at her with those reassuring and sympathetic brown eyes. Those eyes used to make her feel better, they used to comfort her. They had called out to her, convinced her that someone knew what she meant, someone understood. She didn't have to be alone.

Now they mocked her.

"She's never going to get the better of you, alright? Just know that? Alright? I promise." Booth offered her his empty assurances and she tried to believe him, tried to swallow the lie. In his arms, it was almost possible. But his arms didn't feel as safe as they once did and his words rang meaningless in her ears. He couldn't protect her from what she had already learned.

She was still alone.

_**Why am I feeling so guilty?**_  
_**And why am I holding my breath?**_  
_**I'm worried 'bout everyone but me,**_  
_**And I keep just losing myself.**_

Brennan had been waiting for the other shoe to drop. And she had heard the metaphoric thunk of it hitting the floor when the Gravedigger had taunted her in court. Looking around at the pile of numbers in her lap, Brennan knew that Taffett was winning.

It made perfect sense. Taffett had no one in her life but herself. She had clarity of thought. Her logic was the only logic that mattered and for a brief second, Brennan found herself jealous of that clarity.

"What if her dispassion makes her more logical?" Booth hadn't wanted to hear Brennan's hypothesis. "I just think maybe I've lost my advantage because of all the people I'm involved with. All of the relationships, they complicate rational thought."

"You don't mean that." He had said, sure of his statement.

Didn't she?

_**Oh, tell me it's nothing,**_  
_**And try to convince me,**_  
_**That I'm not drowning.**_  
_**Oh, let me tell you I am.**_

_**Please, please tell me you know,**_  
_**I've got to let you go.**_  
_**I can't help falling out of love with you.**_

Hodgins and Angela were married.

The thought still boggled her mind, hours later. They had found happiness in the darkest of times. Hodgins had been the only person in Brennan's life to understand what was at stake during this trial. In fact, she had experienced his rage vicariously, jealous of his ability to feel so much when she felt so little.

But now, her ally and her best friend had each other and she was once again amazingly and utterly alone.

"I have a sense that everything's changing." She said as she turned around to face Booth.

"Not everything! Look, we're still partners, right? And, and Taffett, she's put away. You're feeling good about that, right?" His unfailing optimism was never ending but she had had enough of his false encouragements. It was time for a reality check.

"You almost died, Booth! That could happen again! What if next time I can't get to you?" It was her deepest fear, being helpless. She had lost so many people, lost control of so many things in her life. The last thing she ever wanted to feel was helplessness and now she was drowning in it.

"It's not gonna happen again." He said definitively. She stared at him, totally in shock of his stubborn naivety.

"I envy your ability to substitute optimism for reality." It was cutting but he brushed off her insult easily.

"You know what? Maybe you just need to take some time off. Go to a beach, lay in the sun..." He was doing it again, trying to change the subject, trying to charm his way into a false sense of reality. Why did he always do that? Why couldn't he just face reality for once?

_**Won't you read my mind?**_

He was supposed to be the one who read people better than anyone. They both knew she was a terrible actress so why couldn't he see her falling apart? Was he trying to ignore it or was he really that obtuse? Did he believe his own lies?

"I might need more than a little time." The words were out of her mouth before she could think. She knew immediately that part of the reason she had spoken them was to gage his reaction to her statement but she hadn't expected the sheer look of panic that instantly covered his features.

"Don't make any decisions about your future right now." His panic spurred her brain into motion. As he stood before her, all of her muddled thoughts were finally becoming clear.

Booth would gladly stay here forever, lying to both of them, pretending they were something that they weren't, safe in his imagination.

_**Don't you let me lie here,**_

"I'm just saying..." She needed to explain. She had to make a move. It was time to end this false sense of security that he had wrapped her in for 5 years. It was a fallacy that would get them both killed.

_**And die here.**_

"You know when a dentist gives you anesthetic and tells you not to operate any heavy machinery or make any important decisions within 24 hours." Booth argued. "Alright, this case was bigger than a root canal. Come on, let's just go back inside and have one more drink. Come on, just one." He begged, trying to buy some time to change her mind but she could already feel herself slipping like sand between his fingers. She heard every inaccuracy in his false logic. She heard the artificial promises that were implied in his every breath.

She was done pretending.

"No, I'm tired, Booth. I'm gonna go home."

_**Oh please, please tell me you know,**_  
_**I've got to let you go.**_  
_**I can't help falling out of love with you.**_

"Alright, come on. Let's get you in a cab." He looked resigned, but he cooperated, not wanting to push her further away than she already was. "I know. It's been a long, long day. Get in there, alright. Hey, I'll see you tomorrow, alright?"

For the first time in her life, she didn't know how to answer a question.

Would he?

She kept her silence, deciding that it was better to stay quiet than spreading any more false hope. He had done that enough for the both of them tonight. If her silence worried him, he didn't show it.

_**Haven't you noticed?**_

The cab drove away and as she turned back to look at him, she knew deep down that he was too wrapped up in this to make the hard decision. She was going to have to make it for both of them.

_**I'm sleepwalking.**_

It was the only way she would survive.


	2. On My Own

**A/N: These are not in any order nor are they meant to necessarily follow the same plot or timeline. That being said, I liked the idea of this coming next. Also, I tried this present tense, Sunsetdreamer-style for a change… I didn't like it. Never again. Ever.**

OOOOOO

**"On my Own" Les Miserables**

_**And now I'm all alone again, nowhere to go, no one to turn to.**_

She hadn't expected the crippling loneliness.

It had been so long since she had truly been alone in the world. Was it really only 6 years ago that they had all met? The team had formed their unlikely but familial bonds with one another over time and Brennan hadn't realized just how strong they actually were until she was gone. She felt like those ties had been ripped from her and in their wake, had left wounds that felt wide open and exposed in the night's salty ocean air.

_**And now the night is near,**_  
_**Now I can make believe he's here.**_

Despite the loneliness, she likes the night here. She doesn't have to pretend she isn't homesick. She doesn't have to compartmentalize. At night, she is able to pretend in a new way.

_**Sometimes I walk alone at night when everybody else is sleeping .**_  
_**I think of him and then I'm happy with the company I'm keeping.**_  
_**The city goes to bed and I can live inside my head.**_

In the quiet hours of the night, she allows herself to dream. She lets her writer's imagination take over as her scientist's rationale sleeps soundly. She imagines what they are all doing, scattered over the globe.

She pictures Angela and Hodgins, drinking wine at a small Parisian cafe.

Cam, running the interns all over the lab, finally free to fully take charge in Brennan's absence.

Booth, teaching men and women to fight, leading by example to create strong, resilient, kind soldiers in his own image.

_**On my own, pretending he's beside me.**_

She sits down in the soft, white sand and closes her eyes, leaving behind the beach for a new locale.

The coffee cart.

She smiles at the mental image. How could something so trivial mean so much now that it's gone?

She can feel Booth sitting next to her on a park bench, mocking her choice of a chai tea over his black, unadulterated, coffee.

"A real man's drink." She can hear his cocksure voice in her mind, and even from the other side of the planet, it fills her with more warmth than a chai tea ever could.

_**All alone, I walk with him till morning.**_

He would love the beaches here, she muses as she looks out over the water again. They are terribly romantic if you can get past all of the buzzing insects and the lurking, deadly sea creatures just off shore.

But Booth wouldn't see those things. He saw the good in everything… and everyone. She can practically hear him commenting on the contrast of the white beaches against the dark waves, or the stars shining over his head. He was a romantic like that.

Too romantic at times.

She allows herself a brief moment to think about his impulsivity and that damn gut of his. His actions (and her reactions to them) had broken something between them that she didn't know how to fix.

_I'm a scientist, I don't know how._

_Things have to change. I have to find someone who will love me._

She shakes off the melancholy and exchanges his sad voice in her head for a different set of memories entirely.

_**Without him, I feel his arms around me,**_  
_**And when I lose my way, I close my eyes and he has found me.**_

Her favorite memories involved his touch: his strong, sturdy arm around her shoulders or waist as her head rested on his shoulder, the sensation of his hand on the small of her back, his ridiculous guy hugs that always made her feel better. These are the things that haunt her with a veracity she never expected.

They were just caresses, and they weren't even shared that often, but that was what made them extraordinary. Those moments were stolen, taken silently from 'What might have been' and never talked about again. She secretly treasured those rare moments when they were able to be completely open with one another. Each clandestine touch or comforting hug lingered on her skin for days, permanently catalogued in her memory.

This is what she misses the most and even now, she longs to feel his arms around her, his soft words of encouragement telling her that everything will be fine. That she will be home soon and he will be waiting for her, right by the coffee cart. Because he is a man of his word, a good man, and she can depend on him.

_**In the rain, the pavement shines like silver.**_  
_**All the lights are misty in the river.**_

The thought of his arms around her reminds her of their first kiss. Her mind paints the scene for her as she recalls her overheated flesh, the taste of tequila on his tongue, the way her entire body reacted to his touch. But mostly she remembers the smell of rain. The dark pavement reflected light all around them, making everything glow in a shiny haze that extended beyond just their semi-intoxicated states. How she longed to change her actions, to take back that cab ride and just give herself over to him fully.

She lets herself imagine how that scene might have played out and she shivers.

_**In the darkness, the trees are full of starlight,**_  
_**And all I see is him and me forever and forever.**_

In the dark, it's easy to imagine a life where they could work out their problems. Surely, he had to be experiencing the same sense of incompletion, the irrational but nagging feeling that half of him was missing. After all, he was always the one who felt things more in their partnership.

Was he also sitting in a tent somewhere, realizing what a horrible mistake he had made leaving his people behind? Was he trying to find a way to fix things?

Had he come up with an answer?

_**And I know it's only in my mind,**_  
_**That I'm talking to myself and not to him,**_

She practices all of the things she will tell him when she returns. How much she's learned, all of her regrets, what she wishes she could take back: a mental list of everything she needs to make right.

In the night, it's easy to believe that she will have the strength to tell him these things someday.

_**And although I know that he is blind,**_  
_**Still I say, there's a way for us.**_

She finds it hard to believe that it's been five months since she has last seen him. He couldn't begin to know the changes that she has already experienced in his absence. She has learned so much in her time away, separated from the life she had so foolishly taken for granted.

She opens her eyes, the clarity of her feelings bursts through her body like the pink of the sunrise that is spreading over the horizon.

_**I love him but when the night is over,**_  
_**He is gone, the river's just a river.**_

She's still alone.

The sad realization hits her as she tucks her imagination away and pulls out her foreboding sense of reality.

Her people are scattered to the winds and it is all her fault. She broke the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Even worse, she broke him.

_**Without him, the world around me changes.**_  
_**The trees are bare and everywhere, the streets are full of strangers.**_

She shivered again. She constantly felt cold these days, even in the miserably hot tropical climate.

In the harsh light of day, she knows that she brought this on herself. She had felt stuck for so long that when she had finally been released, the space around her seemed to be too much, too expansive for her own good.

All she had wanted was breathing room and now that she has it, she can't breathe.

_**I love him, but every day I'm learning,**_  
_**All my life, I've only been pretending.**_

Why had she wanted this space? What had possessed her to make this decision? The thought of it seems so ridiculous to her now but there must have been a reason.

She had been running, running as fast as she could. She had desperately craved time, space, rationality, science...

_Refuge_, she thinks as the right word finds her. She had sought refuge in what she used to know and in what she used to be.

She had been certain that she would find herself here, as if her old personality would just be waiting for her to come back. As if it were possible to just slip into her old life like a well-worn glove found in the back of a closet.

Instead, her old life had brought deafening silence and arms that ached for someone else's.

_**Without me, his world will go on turning,**_  
_**A world that's full of happiness that I have never known.**_

Had she always been this alone? Was her past life always this miserable and she had just forgotten?

No. She didn't know what she was missing before.

Angela's light, Hodgins' passion, Booth's loyalty: they filled her life with the joy and security she knew now. These people carried joy with them wherever they went; it emanated from all of them.

She closes her eyes for a brief second. The images of each of their smiling faces parades through her mind and fill her heart with an immense and searing pain and she nearly doubles over from it.

She isn't that lucky. She doesn't have that inner happiness, at least, not on her own.

Not without him.

_**I love him **_

She closes her eyes as the feeling sweeps over her.

_**I love him**_

She allows herself to acknowledge what she's always known.

_**I love him**_

And she always would.

_**But only on my own.**_


	3. You Give Love A Bad Name

**A/N: First of all, these have taken on a "It's all Booth's fault" sort of turn. It's not intentional. I love Booth (more than Brennan if I'm being honest), but that's just the way the songs have played out thus far. And as much as I love readers who pick up the pitchfork when I write something that stirs their emotions, I need to level the playing field. Time for some Boothy bias. :D**

**OOOOO**

**"You give love a bad name" Bon Jovi**

He thought of her every single time he looked in the mirror. He towel dried his hair before looking at his scar once again.

_**Shot through the heart and you're to blame**_  
_**Darlin' you give love a bad name**_

He didn't regret it. Honestly, he didn't. He would do it all over again if he had the chance.

That was what pissed him off.

_**An angel's smile is what you sell**_  
_**You promised me heaven then put me through hell**_

He had been completely intrigued with her from the start. Maybe it was the investigator in him, but she had captured his attention in a way no one else ever had. She was like a puzzle to him: a beautiful, smart, fascinating puzzle that he couldn't help but want to solve. Her blunt attitude alone would've had him coming back for more. He always did like the chase and with his charm, well, it was hard to find women who said no.

What was more of a chase than falling in love with your partner?

_**Chains of love got a hold on me**_  
_**When passion's a prison you can't break free**_

Deep down, he knew that it was more than just the chase with her. He had always found her physically alluring (like every other man with eyes) but there were times when the tension between them was so strong, he was surprised that the building didn't spontaneously combust all around them. Then there were also times when they'd lock eyes and everything else around them would just fall away into silence.

And while there may have been silence externally, internally, his body was always raging. Every atom warred against one another as emotion, desire, and ethics all surged to take control. The dissonance of those two moments, silence and chaos, was both alarmingly addicting. He always held onto the feeling as long as he could but eventually, he had to walk away for fear of which side might win.

What truly scared him was that he knew one side already had.

_**Whoa! You're a loaded gun, yeah**_  
_**Whoa! There's nowhere to run**_  
_**No one can save me, the damage is done**_

He had known that she would be trouble from the moment he met her. But, like a kid playing with fire, he was certain that they could control it if they were careful enough. She was a professional and so was he. They were both so stubborn and followed the rules. They took their jobs seriously, especially as they realized just how good of a thing they had going.

They were a team unlike any other and between the two of them, they had caught more murderers than Booth could have ever hoped to catch on his own.

Sometimes he took it for granted, having a team that would always back up his gut with evidence; but they had always given him everything he would ever need to close a case, usually served up for the jury on a silver platter.

But that was gone now and it was all their fault.

_**Shot through the heart and you're to blame**_  
_**You give love a bad name (Bad name)**_  
_**I play my part and you play your game**_  
_**You give love a bad name (Bad name)**_

I'm the Gambler.

That statement alone should have been enough to stop him in his tracks.

But unlike his gambling addiction, which he had under control these days, he had let this addiction get the better of him. Then again, his addiction to her was stronger than anything else he had ever had to fight. A lesser man would have broken years ago so maybe he should get some credit for lasting five years next to the woman without having a total mental breakdown.

Or shoving her up against the nearest wall and having his way with her.

Or killing her.

Some days, it was hard to tell which he wanted to do more.

_**Hey, you give love a bad name**_

But if he played his part, she played hers as well.

He knew that she was more than a cold, unfeeling scientist. He knew that she could change, if she wanted to. She was Temperance Brennan. Once she made up her mind, she could do anything she damn well pleased.

She just didn't want to.

She didn't want him.

_**Paint your smile on your lips**_  
_**Blood red nails on your fingertips**_

So why had she stood by and let all of those moments happen?

They had five years of nevers and maybes trailing behind them. She would never intentionally drag someone through that kind of heartache. He knew that she wasn't that much of a tease. Then again, she never intentionally did anything that drove Booth wild.

That was what made her so dangerous.

_**A school boy's dream, you act so shy**_

She had no idea the effect that she had on him. Even now, he would recall moments where he had been completely overwhelmed by her and she didn't even give him a second glance. The first time it had ever happened was in Las Vegas. She had walked out of that bathroom wearing that sinfully tight dress, the one he had known would look perfect on her the moment he saw it hanging in the store, and he was gone. After that experience, there were dozens of times when he had been grateful for her cluelessness. It had saved him the explanation of why he couldn't speak, despite the fact that his mouth was hanging wide open.

God, he hated himself for those moments now.

_**Your very first kiss was your first kiss goodbye**_

Why didn't he learn his lesson during their very first case? They had very nearly wound up sleeping with each other and killing each other within the same 24 hours.

Sure, their first kiss had been...

He closed his eyes. Years later, his stomach still flipped at the thought of that kiss. But it had been a slip up, due mostly to the alcohol and the fact that their romance still felt kind of forbidden. And while that made for a deadly combo, Brennan had been smart enough to put herself in a cab and go home. He should have taken that as a sign from God to call it a day and forget the whole encounter ever happened.

But he couldn't.

She had lingered with him, long after she was gone. From less than a week in her presence, Booth had been irrevocably changed. The damage was done before he even knew that he had been hit.

_**Whoa! You're a loaded gun**_  
_**Whoa! There's nowhere to run**_  
_**No one can save me, the damage is done**_

Everywhere he went now, he saw her.

He couldn't drink coffee without thinking about their coffee cart meetings.

He couldn't go to the shooting range without thinking about her safety.

He couldn't listen to the radio in his car without hearing stations she had programmed in.

She was everywhere. She had touched every part of his life and there wasn't a single moment of peace from her memory.

Not even on his own body.

_**Shot through the heart and you're to blame**_  
_**You give love a bad name (Bad name)**_

He touched the scar once more before buttoning his shirt. The khaki of the uniform hid the hole from his sight and it made him feel just the slightest bit better.

_**I play my part and you play your game**_

She wanted to run away? She wanted to be a scientist again, hiding in her rationality and strict rules? Then fine. They would play their parts.

He slipped on his freshly shined shoes and a long forgotten nickname passed through his memory.

_I could call you Shoes. Because they are so very shiny._

_**You give love a bad name (Bad name)**_  
_**You give love, oh!**_

He pushed the thought out of his mind and adjusted his jacket on his shoulders. When everything was in place, he backed up and looked in the mirror one last time. Barring the calendar on the wall, no one would know that this wasn't the young man who had gone to war all those years ago. Booth had flawlessly recreated the look of his youth. It was the same timeless, army-regulation style that it had always been and Booth was grateful for the consistency.

No more rebellious ties or maverick socks.

He was going back to ground zero.

_**Oh! Shot through the heart and you're to blame**_  
_**You give love a bad name**_

It had been years since he had last worn it but there was a steeling power in the uniform. Instantly, Booth felt the last five years slip away to a time when he was younger, stronger, fearless. A time when he didn't know or care about anyone named Temperance Brennan.

He knew almost immediately that he could pretend there. Once he was away, in an old environment with old friends and customs, it would be easy for him to become the man that he once was. He would use his past to cover up his present.

But he also knew that no matter how hard he tried to forget, the proof of her existence lay just over his heart, permanently with him for the rest of his life.

_**I play my part and you play your game**_

He carefully folded up his orders and placed them in his breast pocket, yet another layer over his scar. If he snuck out now, he would probably still make it.

_**You give love a bad name (Bad name)**_

It was time to say goodbye.


	4. The Things I Never Needed

**I wrote this weeks ago and thought that I posted it. Apparently I didn't. So I give it to you as I found it in my folder…**

**A/N: This sudden burst of inspiration stems from a four hour conversation with Some1TookMyName about Bones. Seems like a long time, but I think we covered every single fic/show/fandom topic in the history of forever in that four hours. Poor Applebee's didn't even know what to do with us. So I dedicate this one to her, for being an awesome friend and idea bouncer, and also to our waitress for the unlimited refills. You rock.**

**PS: Yes, I know I already used this song as a title for another fic but this song was always and originally meant to end up in here. That was just a coincidentally great title for that specific fic. Mad props to Grace Potter for being too epic for words and as always, go get her music!**

OOOOO

_**Take a long hard look at my face**_

He wouldn't look at her when he stopped the car. She knew that he couldn't bear to see her tear-stained cheeks, especially when he knew that he was the reason for her tears. Part of her understood. She hadn't been able to look at him when she had broken his heart either. Still, a part of her wanted to be taken seriously. If love was about opening up your veins and bleeding for another person, then she wanted to be seen bleeding. That sort of pain deserved to be acknowledged.

_**Take away the things I can't replace**_

She had always known that they were close. He was her best friend outside of Angela and she had always cherished that friendship. But somewhere along the line, Booth had turned into the only person in her life that she couldn't quite get through the day without. The little things he missed mounted up around her until she was overwhelmed by the knowledge that his daily presence had been taken for granted.

Looking back, even when they were apart, he was always on her mind. Each tale from her day would be a story that she would eventually tell him, an anecdote that he would laugh about later, perhaps over a couple of beers or take out. Now, she was still collecting those moments out of habit, but Booth was no longer around to find them funny. Not only that, but she was fully aware that there was no one else in the world who could take his place.

She had known as soon as Hannah had shown up that things would be different. However, the all-consuming loneliness that she felt surprised her. How could she miss someone so much when he was never really hers to begin with?

_**Take my heart, go on, take it away**_

_**I've got nothing to say**_

As she stepped out of the car, she left her heart behind her. It wasn't a physical ache but an emptiness that she knew would be there for as long as Booth wasn't. Her tears ceased to fall and a stony expression fell over her.

No more crying over things you have no control over.

_Those were the facts._

There was no argument to be made. He had made his choice.

He loved her.

_**Take away this sense of regret**_

As her emotions fell behind her, she walked into her apartment, dead set on turning her world right side up again.

She had finally told him how she felt. She had gotten it off her chest and that (at the very, very least) did make her feel a bit lighter. And maybe Booth didn't love her but at least they had cleared the air. They knew where they stood with one another and it was always easier to move on after that.

_**Take the things I need to forget**_

As she looked around her apartment, there were so many things that reminded her of him. She had relied on these things to give her hope that things might change. Now that she knew the truth, it was time to put them away.

With a deep breath, she walked towards her bookshelf and began gathering the pictures, the small toys, the bottle caps, all of the little pieces of Booth that had integrated themselves into her daily life.

_**Take the mistakes I haven't made yet  
They're all I have left**_

One particular image stopped her in her tracks. It was a candid photo, taken by Cam, of Booth correcting something Brennan had just said. She was rolling her eyes at the correction, but Booth was chuckling and wrapping his arm around her, loving her anyway.

Those days were gone now.

_**I don't want to be the one who lets you down**_

No matter what had happened between them, he had always held high opinions of her. She had worked so hard to be worthy of those thoughts, to be the woman that he saw when he looked at her. She had tried to be just as open and generous towards him as he was towards her. She had taught him things, shown him things, that she had never shared with anyone. But in the end, the gap between his ideal and her reality was just too far of a chasm.

_**All I did was run myself around**_

In her attempts to protect their friendship from his own lofty dreams, she had stepped aside, giving him the time and space to heal. In her absence, Hannah had not only stepped up, but filled even more than Brennan could have ever offered.

_**I wish I could have seen through your eyes  
Maybe then I would have realized**_

Booth had always seen her as something more than she was. From time to time, she let herself believe that she could be that person, that they might have had something wonderful. However, it wasn't long before life pointed out just how delusion those thoughts were.

Still, if Brennan could have seen what Booth had seen in them, if she could have believed it, maybe things would have worked out differently.

_**I'm the only one who's bleeding  
For the things I never needed**_

Her entire life she had maintained that she was an individual, someone who was strong and confident in her choices. She did what was right for her and to hell with anyone who disagreed or thought that she was strange.

She never needed anyone to survive.

_**The things I never needed**_

But now look at her, she had become that poor fool who fell in love with no one to catch her.

_**Take a good long look at yourself**_

_**Take the weight off everyone else**_

_**Take the hardest blow that was dealt**_

She wondered if Booth felt anything aside from guilt at seeing all of her love, pain, and hurt on display. He had always strived to make things better, put things right, fix the world and everyone in it. But sometimes, he forgot that he was human.

_**It's all on your shoulders**_

The old Booth would be at home right now, blaming himself for those tears that she had cried. He would be shouldering the burden of her pain and beating himself up over it all night long.

The old Brennan would have gone over to tell him he was being foolish.

_**I don't want to be the one who lets you down**_

But the old Booth would have never let her get out of the car without making sure she was okay either.

The old Booth was gone.

She had broken him.

_**All I did was run myself around**_

When she had left him in the airport, she begged him to not be a hero, to not be himself.

Be careful what you wish for.

Somewhere along the way, he had listened. He was no longer her hero, no longer the man who would kill for her, die for her. He was just another colleague: a man that she might have known once.

_**I wish I could have seen through your eyes  
Maybe then I would have realized**_

_**I'm the only one who's bleeding  
For the things I never needed  
The things I never needed**_

She took a deep breath. She may not have seen this coming, but she knew now. He had gotten over her, just as he had promised. So she would adjust, just as she had promised. After all, there was a time when love was a thing she had no use for.

She just had to find that woman again.

_**The things I never needed**_


	5. Gone

**A/N: I have two confessions. 1) I had this finished ages ago and I apparently never posted it. My bad. 2) I don't really know any other Ben Folds songs beside this one. But I ADORE it and it always reminds me of season 6 B&B. Enjoy!**

**OOOOO**

"**Gone" Ben Folds**

_**I thought I'd write, I thought I'd let you know**__**  
**__**In the year since you've been gone I've finally let you go**__**  
**__**And I hope you find some time to drop a note**__**  
**__**But if you don't**__**  
**__**Then you don't**__**  
**__**And I will consider you gone**_

Booth was fine.

He walked into the bar with Hannah on his arm and a smile on his face. Angela was throwing the gang a reunion party and this was the first time that everyone had been together in one room since they had all been back. It had the potential to be disastrous but Booth was not going to worry. This was the new normal and it was time that everyone got used to it.

Brennan was sitting across from the Hodgins' and Sweets, smiling and laughing and Booth couldn't remember the last time he had seen her laugh. She looked good. Then, as soon as she saw him, she sobered up.

Great…

Even if it had been almost a year since he had spoken (beyond pleasantries) to his partner, it didn't bother him. Brennan's silence over the past year spoke volumes. He had waited for a letter, an email, any sign that she was thinking of him but clearly, she had no problems leaving him behind for her science. She wanted to get away from homicide, and by association, him and she had left without batting a single one of her beautifully long eyelashes.

And while that might have bothered the old Booth who was in love with his partner, the new Booth had moved on. After all, he had a beautiful girlfriend who he loved and he was happy. So he and Brennan would go back to working together and they would get used to the new normal.

And Booth was fine with that.

_**I know that you went straight to someone else**__**  
**__**While I worked through all this shit here by myself**__**  
**__**And I think that you should spend some time alone**__**  
**__**But if you won't**__**  
**__**Then you won't**__**  
**__**And I will consider you gone**_

Brennan was not upset.

Booth walked in with a gleaming smile and a beautiful woman on his arm to a party that was meant to be for the team, but whatever. She had known that Booth would move on eventually; he had told her himself that he would. So she shouldn't be surprised that the perky blonde from Afghanistan would be at all of their social events. However, it seemed quite fast, even for a gambler like him. Sure, he had gone from being in love with her to living with someone he had only known for a few months but that was his decision.

Brennan had suspected his feelings for her were part nostalgia, part fleeting when he had made his move on the steps of the Hoover that night, but now she knew for a fact that she had been right. She had given him time and space alone in the hopes that it would be good for him. He could rationally analyze his actions and see where he really stood with her, just as she had been doing on her side of the world.

"Hi Hannah." She said as the blonde sat down beside her.

"Hi Temperance. Big crowd tonight, huh?" Hannah's brilliant smile was almost too much to bear.

"Yeah, this is everybody." Brennan said as she looked around the room at her makeshift family. Plus one.

"What can I get you?" The waitress asked her as they all sat down.

"Tequila." Brennan said with a glance towards Booth, who had frozen where he stood at her response. She had a hunch that Booth couldn't drink tequila without thinking of her either. However, the new Brennan was fine. She had moved on. She could drink tequila by herself just because she liked it.

Fuck him and the taste of his kiss.

She had spent the last year working through their relationship, scene by scene, action by action, trying to understand what had gone wrong for them. Now, she knew it was never really real in the first place.

And while she had been forced through an emotional wringer, lost her best friend and partner, and wasted an entire year of her life just because Booth felt something in one fleeting moment, Brennan was _not_ upset.

And as she took her first shot of tequila, she made damn sure that Booth knew it too.

OOOOO

What was she thinking?

Booth couldn't take his eyes off of Brennan. She never drank this much, especially in public. The few times she had been drunk, they had been alone and she had made him promise to get her home discreetly, if they weren't home already.

He watched as she swung over to the bar to order another drink. Of course, she landed right next to a man who was more than interested in talking to her.

Scumbag.

And now Brennan was flirting with him. Not her usual flirting that was adorable in its own way, but her Roxie, sex on a stick, flirting that had every man within a ten foot radius staring slack jawed at her. With a passing glance back at Hannah, he started making his way over to the bar. If Brennan wasn't going to protect herself, he was going to have to do it for her.

_**I wake up in the night**__**  
**__**All alone and it's alright**__**  
**__**The chemicals are wearing off**__**  
**__**Since you've gone**_

Brennan had taken one too many shots of tequila. She knew it and judging by the way that Booth had been watching her all night, he knew it. She didn't care. There was a cute man in front of her and she was finally going to act like a single woman should. She had wasted enough of her life, trying to wait for Booth, running from Booth, pining for Booth….

"I love this song!" She told the stranger beside her. "Do you want to dance?" She asked.

"Sure." He said with a smile that Brennan reciprocated in kind. But before she could head for the dance floor, Booth appeared out of nowhere and stood directly in front of her, blocking her from view.

"Actually, we were just leaving." Booth replied. "Come on, Bones."

"I'm fine, Booth. I can take care of myself." She whispered none too quietly.

"Think again, Bones." He said as he pulled her away from the confused man at the bar.

"What do you think you are doing?" She asked as she wrenched herself out of his grasp.

"Saving you from making a huge mistake."

"Are you kidding me?" She scoffed at him, unable to believe his words. "What part of this is a mistake?" She asked as he pushed her outside to get some air. "The fact that I find that man attractive? The fact that I want to take him home with me? You can't bear the thought of someone else having me? Touching me?"

"Stop it." He said seriously.

"What?" She asked. "Do you think I enjoyed waking up alone every night while you were out having sex under trees with complete strangers? I spent so many years alone waiting for you." She slurred a little and she tried to focus on what she was so angry about. "I waited for you for years and when you finally…" she pointed a wobbling finger at him. "You didn't mean it." She accused as she felt the world begin to spin around her. "So yeah, you don't love me, but guess what? I don't want you to." She said stubbornly, the shocked look on his face turning slightly Picasso-like in her vision. "No more chemicals." She mumbled defiantly.

"What?" Booth asked.

"The _chemicals_ are wearing off." She informed him. "That was all it was and now they are gone. I'm done."

"Good." He said just as stubbornly. "Fine." He raised his hands, as if to wash himself clean of her. "Have a nice life."

Brennan marched as boldly as she could back into the bar and headed straight for Angela.

"Take me home. Now."

_**The days go on, the lights go off and on**__**  
**__**And nothing really matters when you're gone**_

Booth hadn't talked to Brennan outside of professional courtesy (which was strained at best) in over a week. Even Hannah had noticed the difference in his demeanor and was trying to make him feel better.

Booth had lived apart from Brennan for almost a year, so why was this separation affecting him so much now?

Because it was final.

Walking through his daily life was like a perpetual slap in the face, reminding him of things that he would never get back. Coffee at the diner, sitting in his office, walking to the lab, lunch at the coffee cart, walking back to his office, making sure she ate and got home safely, sitting in his apartment… Every single moment of his day involved her and he hadn't realized it until things were too far gone to fix.

This numb feeling of sleepwalking through his life was worse than any heartache she might have bestowed on him before he left.

He used to pray for the day when he wouldn't feel anything towards her anymore.

Be careful what you wish for.

_**If you think that you feel nothing at all**__**  
**__**If you don't (If you don't)**__**  
**__**Then you don't (No, you won't)**_

_**If you won't**__**  
**__**Then you won't**_

Brennan stared at her computer, wondering how much longer she could live in this horrible state of tension with Booth.

He didn't love her.

She didn't want him to.

So why couldn't they just get over it?

She sighed and glanced down at her Rolex, wondering if it was five yet. But the watch was yet another memory of a time when things were better. She glanced at it one more time before slipping it off her wrist and putting it in her drawer.

It was time to move on.

_**And I will**__**  
**__**Then I will**__**  
**__**Yeah, and I will consider you gone**_


	6. Soldier

**A/N: I just wrote this today, so if there are errors, I apologize. As always, listen to the song and enjoy it!**

**OOOOO**

"**Soldier" Ingrid Michaelson**

_**I don't believe in anything but myself  
I don't believe in anything but myself  
But then you opened up a door, you opened up a door  
Now I start to believe in something else**_

Brennan was distracted.

Brennan was never distracted.

She glanced over at the semi-stranger making himself comfortable on her couch, pouring over a file. She barely knew him and yet, he was already affecting her in strange ways. There was something about him that seemed innately….good. He was so genuinely nice towards her, despite knowing absolutely nothing about her, and that was disorienting. No one was ever nice to her, at least, not for long.

She pushed people away. It came from years of experience and knowing how much damage people caused. People always left or hurt you and she was no better; it was a cycle she had no desire to relive with him. Yet, somehow, she found herself trusting him in ways that she probably shouldn't.

"Hey Bones, this is gonna take a while. How 'bout I order us some food." He asked.

"Sure." She nodded, ignoring yet another fight over the nickname he had unwillingly bestowed on her.

"How do you feel about Thai food?" He asked.

And there it was: the _heart_ of their problem.

Nothing about him made sense to her. She didn't _feel _anything about Thai food. She had, over time and with experience, come to learn that she enjoyed Thai food. She had evidence to support her opinion and he had, what? Intuition? Feelings?

She sighed as she was struck once again by the overwhelming feeling that they were complete opposites in every way. How could they ever make this partnership work?

_**But how do I know if I'll make it through?  
How do I know? Where's the proof in you?**_

She looked up at him to respond and she met his expectant gaze, his brown eyes shining with that innate kindness that she would never get used to.

"I like Thai." She said simply, letting the need to correct him die on her lips.

"Great!" He smiled broadly. "Be right back." He said as he stood up.

And she trusted that he would. _**  
**_

OOOOO

_**And so it goes, this soldier knows  
The battle with the heart isn't easily won**_

She had fallen in love with him. She didn't know when it happened, or how, but somewhere along the way, she had developed feelings for her partner, feelings too strong to fight anymore.

Her heart had always taken a back seat to her head and he knew it. He knew it the second he met her and he often teased her about her scientific nature. He loved to give her a hard time when it came to her empirical need to know things, when he simply wanted to _know_. Despite his teasing, she didn't mind feeling things; she just wanted to be able to prove them as well.

The problem with emotions was that they didn't come with evidence.

_**And so it goes, this soldier knows  
The battle with the heart isn't easily won**_

So she had pressed forward, hoping to ignore the nagging feeling that came with a brush of his hand, or a flash of his smile. They were partners. They couldn't go there. There were lines and unspoken rules and yet… somewhere along the way, her brain had lost the battle with her heart.

_**But it can be won**_

She hadn't realized that she had lost the fight until she had been separated from him. That was her evidence, the emptiness, the hole in her daily life that she knew only he could fill.

So, here she stood in the center of Washington, DC, in the dark, after running to catch the only flight out, just to tell him that she had given in. It had taken her six years, but she wasn't going to fight anymore.

**OOOOO**

_**I sit in the back of a bus watching the world grow old  
Watching the world go by all by myself**_

Booth glanced out at the desert, waving goodbye through the dusty bus window to all of the boys that he had been teaching. At 18, they were only a few years older than his own son and just as naive. Some would grow old far too quickly. Others, like him, would take longer to put themselves back together, plagued with the phantom pains of what they had seen long after they left this place.

He wondered what his life would be like when he returned home this time around. He wasn't the young kid with a gambling problem anymore. He had a life, a son, a makeshift family waiting for him as soon as he stepped off that plane. He glanced at his watch. This time tomorrow he would be in DC.

_**I took a faithful leap and packed up all my things  
And all my love and gave it to somebody else**_

He pulled out his phone to glance at her picture again. He had come here with the expectation that he would finally have the time and space to get over Bones but he had never expected to fall in love.

But Hannah had been a force all her own. She was bright, beautiful, smart, charming and seemed like a perfect fit for him, right from the beginning. God, things were so… easy with her. She gave herself willingly to him, let words like love and faith fall easily from her lips and in return, he had loved her for it. Things were finally simple, easy, and wasn't that what love was supposed to be?

He put his phone away and closed his eyes, wondering if their relationship could withstand this separation. He had his life, she had hers. Was a whirlwind romance in the middle of a war all that they would ever amount to?

But how do I know if I'll make it through?  
How do I know? Where's the proof in you?

And his real fear regarding Hannah finally bubbled to the surface: what if it was too easy?

_**And so it goes, this soldier knows  
The battle with the heart isn't easily won  
And so it goes, this soldier knows  
The battle with the heart isn't easily won  
But it can be won, but it can be won  
But it can be won, but it can be won  
**_

OOOOO

_**And so it goes, this soldier knows  
The battle with the heart isn't easily won  
**_

She never expected it.

She should have. She should have logically concluded that this was a possibility.

But the truth was that when it came to him, he had stolen her logic years ago.

_**And so it goes, this soldier knows  
The battle with the heart isn't easily won**_

So she smiled, pretended that she was happy for him, and once again bit back words that she longed to say in order to protect their partnership.

She used to keep her mouth shut to keep from hurting his feelings, now she did it to keep from revealing hers.

OOOOO

_**And so it goes, this soldier knows  
**_

Hannah had played him for a fool. He sat on his couch, his drunken stupor making her words echo over and over.

_I thought we'd have more time before we got to this._

How had he been so stupid as to not see the signs? She had never planned on forever with him.

They never did.

_**And so it goes**_

_**The battle with the heart isn't easily won**_

"Take these and drink this." Brennan demanded, handing him a handful of pills and a sports drink from of his fridge. He could tell by the sound of her voice that she was not going to take no for an answer. He gave her a look that he would probably regret in the morning and begrudgingly took the pills.

"I'll be fine, Bones. I just want to be alone right now, okay? I just need some space to clear my head." He just wanted to forget this day had ever happened. Brennan looked him up and down.

"Space won't clear your head." She said, sitting down in the nearest chair. He gave her another angry glare. "Alright Doc, what do I need then?" He asked sarcastically.

"A friend." She said as she got comfortable.

"What if I don't want _you_ to be my friend right now?" He said, taking out his anger on Hannah on the next best thing.

"Tough." She said stubbornly, refusing to let him push her around anymore tonight. "I'm not going anywhere, Booth. Not until you are your Boothy self again." Was she teasing him? Booth tried to examine her face for her seriousness, but the room was spinning and everything was too blurry to examine. He closed his eyes and slid down onto his side, trying to make it stop.

"What if that never happens?" He asked.

"It will." She said knowingly.

_**The war is won**_

And so it goes, this soldier knows  
And so it goes  
The battle with the heart isn't easily won  
The war is won

"How do you know?" He asked, his eyes still closed.

"I just know." She said, willing to be the one with the faith, if only just until he found his again.

_**But it can be won, but it can be won**_


	7. The Curse

**A/N: I've wanted to write something with this song in it for years but I could never quite get it where I wanted. One day, I was walking into work and it hit me like lightning. All the pieces fell together like "Duh, you idiot. Write this. It's so simple." I both love and hate those moments equally. And yes, this *IS* a song about a mummy falling in love with his archeologist. But it's a metaphor for life, people. Or in this case, B&B. Enjoy!**

**OOOOO**

"**The Curse" Josh Ritter**

_**He opens his eyes, falls in love at first sight  
With the girl in the doorway  
What beautiful lines, how full of life  
After thousands of years what a face to wake up to**_

Booth's eyes adjust to the dim light of the auditorium slowly. When he finally makes out the woman at the front of the class teaching, he's surprised. He leans momentarily against the doorway as he tries to reconcile this beautiful woman to the scientist he had been expecting. He hears her expertly ask if there are any questions. He has more than a few but he starts simply, wanting to test her.

Imagine his surprise when she throws all of his misconceptions right back at him, completely unshaken by his interceding presence in her classroom. She has absolutely no doubt that she is right and he is wrong and she has no qualms about telling him that. He asks her one more question.

He grins. She is feisty. He's always loved that in a woman. Perhaps having a partner on this case won't be so bad after all.

_**He holds back a sigh as she touches his arm  
She dusts off the bed where till now he's been sleeping  
Under miles of stone, the dried fig of his heart  
Under scarab and bone, starts back to its beating  
**_

She nudges his arm playfully and he feels a spark of lightning zip through his body like a comet.

She's right. They _can_ have sex now.

It was a thought he hadn't allowed himself to consider, but since she was offering…

He pays the bill and follows her outside before stopping her in the doorway. Suddenly, his inner Catholic feels the need to confess before they continue any further.

He's not an idiot. He knows his life is a mess. Over thirty years of scars, both emotional and physical, have taken their toll on him. Still, he can't remember when it was that he stopped truly living his life and just surviving it. The cheap thrill that comes when money is on the line isn't real, no matter how hard he tries to keep the feeling running through his veins. He wants to start living again and she should know that he is going to try.

She kisses him for his honesty and suddenly, his heart kicks into overdrive. The world swirls around him in the brightest colors and he feels alive. He hasn't felt this alive in... well, maybe ever.

She pulls away and grins as she runs out into rain to catch the cab.

_**She carries him home in a beautiful boat  
He watches the sea from a porthole in stowage  
**_

She found him.

Against all odds and against all logic, she found him.

He is never more grateful to have befriended a team of geniuses.

She hugs him without a second thought to any injuries he might have sustained in her absence. He hugs her just as fiercely back. He wants to kiss her, although he chalks the feeling up to survivor's adrenaline. Instead, he glances out the window and watches as the ship beneath them begins to detonate. He looks at her again, this time, checking her for any signs of distress.

She is still in her dress and still looks just as beautiful as she probably did the night before. He looks down at what is left of his tux and begins to laugh.

Only she could walk through fire and still be the personification of grace.

_**He can hear all she says as she sits by his bed  
And one day his lips answer her in her own language  
**_

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He can see her out in the hall talking to his doctors and suddenly, he feels inexplicably safe in her hands. She's a genius. She would never let anything happen to him.

She walks in and sits down by his bed.

Cerebellar pilocytic astrocytoma.

He repeats the words out loud again. He's never had a knack for squint-speak but when something that terrifying is inside your head, you remember what it is called.

She looks surprised by how easily the words flow from his mouth. Before he knows what is happening, her hand is on his and she's choking back tears.

She is going to be there for every second of the surgery.

She promises.

_**The days quickly pass, he loves making her laugh  
The first time he moves it's her hair that he touches  
She asks "Are you cursed?" He says "I think that I'm cured"  
Then he talks of the Nile and the girls in bulrushes, oh**_

She smiles as she peeks at him through a glass case before continuing her path down the exhibit hall. He compliments her and she immediately tenses. One look at her insecure face and he finds himself rushing forward to reassure her of her own brilliance.

Can't she see how amazing she is?

She fiddles nervously with his tie and he smiles. In her lack of confidence, he finds his own and he makes the very first deliberate move of their shared career. He consciously reaches out and brushes her hair back; it is not impulsive or forced but for no other reason than he wants to touch her.

He finds himself leaning forward before a crowd of onlookers interrupts their moment. He takes a deep breath and sighs.

Not yet…

But soon._****_

In New York he is laid in a glass-covered case  
He pretends he is dead, people crowd round to see him  
But each night she comes round, and the two wander down  
The halls of the tomb that she calls a museum

He had only been pretending.

He had thought that if there were any reason to fake your own death, catching a murderer was a pretty good one. But if he had known then, truly known, what his pretending had done, the damage that it had caused, he would have never allowed such a betrayal to occur.

The look in Cam's eye tells him that she is being completely serious as she informs him of what happened the last time he broke through his partner's shell.

He tries to imagine the incomparable Dr. Temperance Brennan completely shut down: not eating, not sleeping, just wandering the halls of the museum alone, sleepwalking, lost in her own tomb of stainless steel and glass. The thought brings bile to his throat and he clears it in vain.

If Brennan couldn't live with him, she didn't want to live.

Cam speaks the words tenderly, trying to warn him of what might lay ahead if he isn't absolutely certain. Her words haunt him for days. They turn over in his gut and demand to be repeated over and over in his mind.

But it only proves that Bones loves him. Or at least she had once in the past.

He has a shot.

_**Often he stops to rest, but then less and less  
Then it's her that looks tired, staying up asking questions**_

What if?

She didn't mean it.

Booth looks her in the eye and knows why she is saying the words, especially now, but he also knows that she is better than that, smarter than that. She is just tired, emotional, and stressed. They all were. This case had affected them all, in every way possible, and it was so close to being over. He just needed her to be strong for one more week and then, everything would be okay again. Justice would be served, the Gravedigger would be behind bars and they could go back to being happy. She would see that everything works out in the end.

He glances up at her from the file in his hand once more but even he is struck by the serious look in her eye.

She's exhausted, that much is true. But whether it is from work or from her relationships, neither one can say for certain.

_**He learns how to read from the papers that she**____**  
Is writing about him and he makes corrections**_

_**It's his face on her book and more and more come to look  
Families from Iowa, upper West-siders**_

Booth wanders through the used bookstore, looking for a present for his partner when he sees her first book on the shelf. For some reason, it flashes him back to a memory when they were first partners, barely able to be in the same room without bickering.

"_I signed a book today myself." He says as he leads her to the car. _

"_You?" She asks. "Someone asked you to sign my book?" _

"_Yep. I signed it 'The Real Andy Lister'." He grins proudly. _

"_Booth! That's entirely not helpful! People already think that you are the basis of Andy. If you stop denying it, I'm never going to get that rumor stopped." _

"_Come on, Bones. You can't tell me that Andy isn't based a little bit on me. Without me, you would have never had the idea to write the FBI into your books to begin with." He points out as he opens the car door for her. _

"_Inspiration and character basis are two very different things, Booth." She says as she gets into the car. He shuts the door and goes around to the other side and slides in before continuing their conversation. _

"_I told them that I didn't really speak six languages." He offers. _

"_But you remained silent on the Olympian and Harvard graduate details?" She knows it's true and he doesn't deny it._

"_Well, I don't want to ruin the entire series for them." He smirks. _

He realizes how far they have come, how much they have learned since that moment, and it makes him grin. She was a cure he didn't even realize he needed. They have been through everything together and have come out the other side stronger. He thinks of all of the close moments that they have been having lately and he knows that it was all worth it.

He knows that they were pushed towards each other by God or the universe.

He knows that they are meant to be.

He knows that their time has finally come.

_**Then one day it's too much, he decides to get up  
And as chaos ensues, he walks outside to find her  
**_

Sweets' words hit him in the chest and he knows that this is the sign from the universe he has been waiting for. He walks slowly behind her as they both discuss the session they had just had and their conversation gives him an opening.

He takes a chance.

He sees the terrified look in her eyes as he speaks but somewhere, deep down, he is convinced that he can persuade her to agree with him. He tries, desperately he tries, to make her understand where he is coming from but she still looks panicked so he tries to kiss her instead. If his words won't convince her, perhaps his touch will.

But she pushes him away, her answer firm and unyielding. She will not be persuaded. His heart sinks as he feels hot tears roll down his cheek.

She refuses to change.

Not even for him.

_**She's using a cane, and her face looks too pale  
But she's happy to see him, as they walk he supports her**_

He drops his duffel bag as she launches into his arms. God, he had missed her. He hadn't realized how much until right now. She places a hand on his cheek and examines him like a set of remains. He knows that he has aged in his months away, the desert sun taking its toll on his skin and the responsibility for young boys wearing him down. Still, he feels light-hearted so he tells her the reason why.

She, on the other hand, looks exhausted and far too pale in the moonlight. She takes a deep breath as she heads off in the wrong direction. Booth corrects her and offers her an arm, and just like old times, she places her head gratefully on his shoulder but something is missing in the connection.

He wonders if it's him or her who has changed.

_**She asks "Are you cursed?" but his answer's obscured  
In a sandstorm of flashbulbs and rowdy reporters, oh  
**_

Booth looks down at his phone. Hannah's home. He grins as he quickly finds an excuse to bail on the party. Brennan stares as he asks her to cover for him. She mutters a response and he offers a quick thanks. He doesn't wait to see her reaction as he stuffs the phone in his pocket and heads for the nearest taxi.

Something feels strange in the action, leaving his partner standing on the sidewalk with only a lie on his behalf but Booth pushes the thought aside as he focuses on the homecoming his favorite reporter has waiting for him at home.

_**Such reanimation, the two tour the nation  
He gets out of limos, he meets other women  
He speaks of her fondly, their nights in the museum  
But she's just one more rag now he's dragging behind him  
**_

He feels a breath of fresh air in his lungs that only comes from being around her. He chuckles as he tells one of his favorite stories about the team and Hannah laughs appreciatively. He watches as she takes a sip of her wine before setting it down thoughtfully. She speaks of how lucky he is to have such a tight-knit group and adds that she is jealous of their bond. She's never had that. Her words surprise him and for the first time since she moved in, he pictures himself giving her that chance. He could make her just as happy and that thought fills him with joy. He leans in and kisses her.

He feels whole.

_**She stops going out, she just lies there in bed  
In hotels in whatever towns they are speaking  
Then her face starts to set and her hands start to fold  
And one day the dry fig of her heart stops its beating  
**_

Booth knows that something isn't right. He can see it immediately on his partner's face. There was a time when he was certain she was going to leave him and their work and even then she didn't look so tired.

She is hyper-defensive and emotionally volatile at even the simplest sentences. He asks her what is wrong but she hands him a flimsy excuse: she isn't sleeping well. He knows her well enough to know that she never sleeps and yet she has never acted like this before. He watches as she lashes out at those around her and he wonders if she's eaten lately. She looks so weary and it scares him.

It should be no surprise when she finally says what is bothering her, but it is. Booth had just assumed that he was the one who felt more in their relationship and now that he no longer felt it, at least, not in the same way, he figured it was done with and behind them.

But when she finally speaks, drenched to the bone and with tears pouring out of her, he can't look her in the eye. She says goodbye and shuts his car door with a finality that sears through him.

But he still believes that everything happens for a reason. After all, if he had never met her, he would have never gotten to be where he was today, which despite their current situation, was a very good life, full of love and happiness, all of which he owes to her.

She'll have that someday too, he tries to convince himself. It just takes time and the right twist of fate.

But up the stairs, a light comes on inside an apartment. A heart crushed woman is haunted by the remnants of a conversation she had nearly forgotten until tonight. She wonders at what point in their relationship he has managed to fool her into forgetting her own answer but vows that it won't happen again.

_**Long ago on the ship, she asked "Why pyramids?"  
He said "Think of them as an immense invitation."  
**_

His eyes twinkle playfully as he leans in a little closer. She feels her heart skip a beat at the stranger's action but somehow, she finds herself smiling.

_**She asked "Are you cursed?" He said "I think that I'm cured."**___

"Do you believe in fate?" He asks her.

"Absolutely not." She replies.

_**Then he kissed her and hoped that she'd forget that question**_


	8. C'est La Mort

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter. I was actually nervous about posting it so I was very relieved to know that you liked it. More Civil Wars today!**

**OOOOO**

"**C'est la mort" The Civil Wars**

_**Swan dive down eleven stories high  
Hold your breath until you see the light**_

_Hold your breath, Bones._ Booth silently begged as he frantically drove his car into the country. _I'm coming. Just keeping holding your breath for me. Don't give up on me yet._

Even if he had to dig her out of the ground by hand, he would find her.

He always found her.

_**You can sink to the bottom of the sea  
Just don't go without me**_

_You will not die on me, Booth, _she mentally scolded him. _Not again._

Living without him by her side was no longer an option. He had embedded himself into every single aspect of her life and she didn't know how to exist without him anymore.

She didn't want to.

She pushed the morbid thought out of her mind as she climbed into the helicopter.

She would not let him die. She would find him, bring him home, and everything would go back to normal.

It had to.

_**Go get lost where no one can be found  
Drink so long and deep until you drown**_

_**Say your goodbyes but darlin' if you please,**____**  
Don't go without me.**_

He was trying to push her away.

She knew that he was hurt and the fact that she had hurt him like this once, well, it crushed her heart all over again. Even still, if he thought that he could get rid of her by simply showing her the door, he had another thought coming.

She would have a drink. She would be strong for both of them. She would wait.

She would never leave him.

_**C'est la vie**_

_**C'est la mort  
You and me,  
Forevermore  
**_

They could get through this together. Someday, it would be just another case that they survived. After all, Booth believed in them more than any other force in the universe. Nothing could tear them apart, even a serial killer bent on manipulating evidence.

He glanced down at his sleeping daughter lying in her crib and he wondered just how long this would go on. The Jeffersonian team was good, the best in the world. Surely they could find some shred of evidence that proved that this was all an elaborate setup.

Until that day, he would have faith in the system and in the team that he considered family.

Most of all, he would have faith in them.

_**Let's walk down the road that has no end  
Steal away where only angels tread**_

She stared down the never-ending highway that seemed to stretch on forever.

Forever.

She had promised him that. Maybe not using that specific word, but they both had understood the unspoken permanency of their relationship.

She had been driving for days but the guilt hadn't left her yet. She had made the mistake of looking in the rearview mirror as she drove off. He had been standing in the street, looking dumbfounded. The sight had nearly broken her.

She had abandoned him, the very same way her parents had abandoned her. She had taken Christine and ran from the only person in the world that made her feel safe, whole, and loved. She knew that she wouldn't feel that way again until they were reunited. So even if she had to leave for the moment, she would be back to make things right someday. He would solve this case. They would be a family again.

This was not forever.

_**Heaven or hell or somewhere in between  
Cross your heart to take me when you leave**_

_This house was supposed to be a new beginning_, Booth thought as he looked around the empty, silent house. It was supposed to be their sanctuary where work was never allowed to cross the threshold. A house filled with laughter and joy and all of the promises they had made to one another. Now it was just a wooden shell containing some wiring and pipes. It held nothing of the happiness that used to fill each room.

Because his girls, his entire world, were missing.

His heart cracked at the thought and he felt tears burn his eyes once again. Logically, he knew that running was the only option they had left, but that didn't mean he liked it. He made the trek upstairs, unable to even look at the nursery door as he passed. He walked into their bedroom and stared at their bed. How was he supposed to sleep here without her? He'd never had to think about that possibility before. He tore his gaze away from the empty bed and caught sight of her clothes, still haphazardly hanging over the chair in the corner. That little reminder of sacred domesticity was all that he could take. He finally broke down, crumbling to the floor as he shed the first hot tears of the day.

_**Don't go**___

They were gone.

_**Please don't go**_

And they had left him behind.

_**Don't go without me  
**_


End file.
